


Something Like Canon

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy), LovelyPoet



Series: Matchmaker AU [2]
Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, The Academy Is...
Genre: Alternate Universe- Matchmaker AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-17
Updated: 2007-07-17
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:41:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyPoet/pseuds/LovelyPoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You are fucking distracting, Beckett."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like Canon

**Author's Note:**

> Reformatted from AIM chat, blah blah.

Title: Something Like Canon  
Universe: Matchmaker  
Authors: [](http://lovelypoet.livejournal.com/profile)[**lovelypoet**](http://lovelypoet.livejournal.com/) and [](http://clumsygyrl.livejournal.com/profile)[**clumsygyrl**](http://clumsygyrl.livejournal.com/)  
Rating: NC-17  
Summary: "You are fucking distracting, Beckett."  
Pairing: William Beckett/Butcher  
Word Count: ~4300  
Note: Reformatted from AIM chat, blah blah.

Butcher considers himself pretty lucky in the grand scheme of things when he thinks about his history as part of the great Pete Wentz matchmaking experience. It only takes two tries before he hits on something that feels like a good thing. The first try, a night getting wasted with Frank, may not have been great romance, but it did get him a drinking buddy that can’t be rivaled. His second attempt got him William Beckett.

They don’t fuck on the first date, but not for lack of chemistry or trying on Butcher's part. William reluctantly pushes Butcher away after fifteen minutes of kissing and groping outside Butcher’s apartment.

“Pete told me I’m not allowed to fuck on the first date anymore,” William says, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, looking a little embarrassed by the words. “He says I tend to ruin my opportunities to find a committed relationship by turning all my dates into awesome one night stands.”

“What a tragedy.” Butcher rolls his eyes, a little frustrated. Really, though, he understands impulsiveness getting in the way of smart decision making. He’s an artist, after all. He’s worked really hard to keep a practical side, to avoid being a cliche starving artist. It’s worked. Mostly. Sort of. Sometimes. Ok, it works in his professional life. He manages a small but respected art gallery. He takes William (“You can call me Bill, you know”) there on their third date and then William (“Really, call me Bill”) takes him to bed.

“So, ok. We’ve made it past one night stand territory.” Bill says the next morning. “Now what?”

“Now, we keep going as long as it’s still fun.” Butcher says.

They go to art galleries other than Butcher’s, and Bill let's him talk himself hoarse about all the pieces. They go to the dive bars that Bill likes and to restaurants where neither of them can pronounce half the stuff on the menu. They hold hands in the street and Butcher will kick anyone's ass that even tries to make Bill feel uncomfortable. Bill doesn't feel like he needs someone to stand up for him or protect him for random idiots on the street, but he lets Butcher do it anyway. Butcher's hot when he's pissed off.

There's one night at a gallery opening. He and Bill are outside as Butcher smokes a cigarette. Butcher's happy with Bill against his side and laughing softly about something and a group of drunken assholes walks by and calls them fags. Butcher doesn't even pause, just tucks the smoke between his lips and runs after them.

By the time Bill catches up with him, Butcher's got bruised knuckles and he's grinning and licking at his split lip.

"The loud mouths are always pussies," He tells Bill.

Bill glares at him. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these times, and I kind of like having you around. Asshole."

Butcher kisses Bill gently around the blood on his lip. "I like having you around too. I think that I deserve a drink. Those dickheads will think twice about calling out a fag."

Bill shouldn't find bruised and bloody Butcher so hot, but he kind of does. It's like Butcher was standing up for his honor or some shit.

Butcher ends up getting just drunk enough that he's shamelessly tactile, rubbing up against Bill at the bar. He keeps running his hand over Bill's spine and he's a little loud about complimenting Bill, telling him "you are so, so fucking pretty."

Bill likes the attention but he wants Butcher conscious and fully functioning. He cuts Butcher off for the night and Butcher doesn't mind. It just means he has now two hands free to touch Bill.

Bill's trying to finish his drink, but it's not easy with Butcher plastered up against his back, tugging his hair to the side so he can bite at Bill's neck. He likes the way it makes Bill hiss and arch. Ok, he's just sober enough to know it's probably a little inappropriate to do in public, but damnit, he's having a good night. He got into a fight and won. His guy is gorgeous and he's pretty sure he's going to get laid tonight.

"Bill," he murmurs kissing behind Bill's ear. "Want you." He says softly and Bill turns his head a little.

Bill shudders and his stomach tightens as Butcher's hand drags down his stomach and under the waistband of his jeans.

"Ok, yeah." He tosses a twenty on the bar and grabs Butcher's wrist. "We're going to go outside and get a cab. And if anyone yells obscenities at us, you're going to ignore them. Right?"

Butcher nods and he leans in against Bill. "No more beating up assholes tonight. Got it." Butcher is smiling and nuzzling Bill's neck. He has the sing-songing voice saying, 'I'm getting laid. I'm getting laaaaaaaaaid.'

Bill doesn't even bother trying to hide the way he grins and rolls his eyes. He's sung that song a couple times himself. It takes a couple minutes before they manage to snag a cab, and Bill has to fight a half-hearted battle the whole time to keep Butcher from trying to get their pants undone right there on the sidewalk.

Butcher manages to give Bill a pretty impressive hickey on his neck. He giggles when Bill whines and has to physically push Butcher away.

"Butcher, Andrew, god. Just... two minutes. We'll be at my place in two minutes!"

"Hmph, spoilsport," Butcher mutters, raising his hands. "Fine, fine. I'll be good. Swear!"

He mostly keeps his promise in the cab, managing to limit himself to drawing abstract patterns on Bill's thighs with his finger tips. Bill clenches his teeth and bites back the moans that keep threatening every time Butcher's hand brushes over his cock.

"Nope," Butcher smirks. "You said, not until we get to your place."

Bill would kill Butcher. But if he kills Butcher then he won't get sex. And then he would be sad. Very sad and unfulfilled. That would be not good. The cab pulls up to the front of Bill's building. Bill shoves money at the driver and Butcher scrambles out after him.

"Hey, look at that," Butcher says, "it's your place. We're at your place, Bill." Bill's laugh is cut short by Butcher pushing him back against the door and going for his fly again.

Bill's hips push up against Butcher's hand. "Inside we have to get inside."

Butcher's hand pops the button on Bill's pants. "Trying."

Bill fumbles with the door and he groans. "Inside my house. My house not my pants. Well, not yet."

"I like your house. It's a nice house.” Butcher’s mumbling against Bill’s neck. “It has your bed. I'm gonna fuck you in your bed." Butcher bites a kiss at Bill's jaw and Bill finally manages to get the door open behind him, stumbling backwards. Butcher follows and slams the door behind him. "Ok, we’re inside. Pants off now."

Bill shivers and he won't say it out loud but he likes it when Butcher orders him around. Especially when the ordering is happening as he's being walked back toward his bedroom and Butcher's dropping clothes on the way to Bill's bed.

"Bossy," Bill gets out and as soon as his jeans hit the floor Butcher's bending him over the side of his bed.

"Stay," Butcher says firmly, pressing his hand flat against the small of Bill's back. He likes the line of Bill's body when he's stretched out, bracing himself on his elbows on the mattress. He reminds himself to remember how this looks tomorrow when he's sober and trying to think of something to draw. For now though, he's stroking his hands over Bill's hips and thighs. "You like it when I'm bossy."

Bill doesn't answer.

He does spread his legs a little wider. His cock is hard, bobbing a little. His hair across his face and he shudders when Butcher's fingers slide down his spine. He arches up following the trail of touch. "Fuck," he whispers, tip of his cock wet already.

"Yep. That's the plan." Butcher slips his fingers further, smiling to himself at the way Bill rocks back when he teases him, rubbing his thumb around his opening, dipping down to brush against his balls. He keeps one hand firm on Bill's hip. "Think you can last?"

Bill shudders and he's not sure how he's lasting now. He pushes back against Butcher's fingers. "God, I don't know." He says and his cock is so fucking hard.

"Try," Butcher says, pulling his hand away. Bill whines a little and Butcher says "Hey. Just getting lube." He fumbles in the drawer by Bill's bed and gets the cap off the tube. He presses his slicked fingers in slowly, watching Bill arch for it. "Yeah, like that. Just like that. You want more?"

Bill can't form words. They're being driven out by the twist of Butcher's fingers and all he can do is nod and push back. His body is clamoring for more, more, more and Butcher's there and Bill wants to be greedy and just keep taking.

"You look so fucking good like this," Butcher crooks his fingers just the way he knows is going to make Bill tremble and bite back a scream, and it works. He draws his fingers out and manages to get the condom on one handed. He doesn't trust Bill not to fall over if he lets go of his hip. He steps in close, pressing his cock against Bill's ass. "You want me to fuck you now?"

Bill whimpers and nods. "Yes," he gets out and his hands fist in his blankets and push back, trying Butcher to hurry. Fuck me, Bill screams in his head and he would say them out loud but all he can seem to process is moaning and making these needy noises.

Butcher presses in as slow as he can stand to. It takes everything he has not to just slam into Bill, push him down against the bed and go hard and fast. But it's so much more fun watching Bill writhe and beg, so he grabs for that tiny bit of self control.

Bill's arms strain and his body pushes, trying to pull Butcher deeper. He would beg, but Butcher knows. He's fucking him just how he likes it.

Butcher runs a hand down Bill's back. "Fucking gorgeous."

Butcher loves that he can make Bill lose all his words just by touching him the right way. He loves the sounds Bill makes when he just wants it harder, moaning low and needy and Butcher gives it to him. Rocking him forward on the bed, he watches Bill's hands tighten white-knuckle in the sheets. "You... can you come like this? Without me even touching your cock?"

Bill's head spins and his head jerks up and down in a hard nod. "Yes, fuck. Just from... from your cock in me." Butcher's not the biggest Bill's had [Butcher isn't small by any way shape or form] but Butcher knows how to fuck. He picks up Bill's cues and knows just when to fuck him harder and when to move faster.

Butcher speeds up a little more, bending, stretching over Bill's back, licking at the line of his spine. He's losing a little control, hips jerking. "Come on, Bill. You know you're ready, Been holding back since we walked in the door. It's ok."

Bill wants to deny it, but he knows Butcher knows. It's only taken a short time for Butcher to know all of Bill's buttons. Bill drops his head down forward, breathing hard.

"Andy," he groans and squeezes around Butcher, cock jerking and streaking his stomach and even his chest as he starts to come.

Butcher manages a few more harsh thrusts and then he's coming, gasping against Bill's back and fingers flexing tight and bruising. He can feel Bill shaking under him, barely managing to keep his arms under him.

Bill sighs in a very satisfied way that makes Butcher smile against his skin.

Butcher shifts on top of Bill pulling out and then flopping down on the bed. Bill crawls up and flops down half on top of Butcher. "God, you..." He says laughing a little.

"Yeah, I'm pretty good." Butcher grins. He tangles his hand in Bill's hair and drags him for a kiss, and realizes that, huh, he hadn't actually managed to do this properly. There's a little sting left in his lip from the fight earlier, but it's easy to ignore that when he can focus on Bill's lips and tongue.

Bill hums happily into the kiss, cuddling with and in the afterglow with Butcher. His long leg stretches over Butcher, holding his hips down and deepening his kiss.

Butcher settles a hand on Bill's thigh, rubbing over the lean muscle. He's starting to feel sleep creep up on him a little bit, and he has to resist the urge to yawn against Bill's mouth.

"Hey," he says, pulling away from the kiss. "I wanna draw you."

Bill tucks his head on Butcher's shoulder. "Mmm, not bad for pillow talk," Bill says yawning and promptly falling asleep. His fingers curled loosely around Butcher's ribs.

Butcher strokes his hand over the sharp curves of Bill's shoulder blade. He falls asleep thinking about the ways he's going to make Bill pose for him.

When morning comes, Bill's the first up. He's got on Butcher's shirt and his own shorts, but making coffee and rifling through his fridge for something edible.

Butcher stumbles out of the bedroom in just his shorts. He's a little displeased with the whole sunlight thing, but all things considered, he should have a much worse headache than he does.

"Is there food?" he asks, slumping down at the kitchen table.

Bill smiles and he can't help but think that Butcher is adorable. He passes over a couple slices of toast. "That's about it. We're gonna have to go out for something real."

He sets a big mug of coffee in front of Butcher and goes back to unpeeling his orange.

"Mmm, Coffee." Butcher takes a large gulp, sighing happily. He stares at Bill's fingers digging into the skin of the orange, focusing sharply. It should possibly disturb him that he finds it a little hot. He's surprisingly ok with all the things he doesn't normally find sexual that suddenly are when Bill's involved.

Butcher nearly chokes on the coffee when Bill bites into the juicy segment of his orange.

He smiles and licks his fingers happily when Butcher makes a choked sound. "You okay?"

Butcher manages to nod, a little wide eyed. He just keeps nodding when Bill holds out a segment of orange and asks, "want some?"

Butcher stares at Bill, the sly smile on his face, still licking orange juice from his lips.

"Do you want?" Bill repeats, holding the piece of fruit a little closer to Butcher's mouth.

Butcher leans in and he takes the segment from his fingers and licks at Bill's fingers. It turns out to be way more sensual than either of them expected.

Bill watches Butcher swallow and peels another segment away from the orange. He eats this one himself, letting some of the juice run down his fingers.

Before he can break another piece off, Butcher grabs his hand and draws it to his mouth, licking and sucking at the traces. Bill's breathing goes shallow and rapid, watching Butcher's lips wrap around his fingers.

Butcher wants nothing more to drag Bill back to bed and dribble orange all over other parts of Bill's body.

Bill rubs his thumb over Butcher's lower lip, rubbing against his tongue. He lets out a little moan when Butcher's teeth graze the pads of his fingers. "Uhnn..."

Bill closes his eyes, focusing on the heat of Butcher's mouth. He'd not even interested in getting back to bed, he'd be fine with it if Butcher just wanted to crawl under the table and blow him. Mostly, he's very glad he didn't have oatmeal for breakfast.

Butcher drags Bill closer and Bill folds easily into Butcher's lap. "Something on your mind?"

Butcher kisses Bill, tasting the sharp edge of citrus and the warmth from the coffee. "You are fucking distracting, Beckett."

"What, you had something better to do?" Bill mumbles against Butcher's mouth. He reaches down and skims off his shirt, dropping it on the floor. Butcher bucks up against Bill and it's obvious that Butcher's not about to complain. "You like me distracting you,"

Butcher doesn’t have much response to that other than to palm Bill's ass and say, "Hmm, gotta point there." He kisses Bill's neck and Butcher needs to get moving and get some work done at his studio, but all he's thinking about is laying Bill out on the table and sucking him off.

"You know," Bill slides his hands down between their bodies, tugging down the waistband of his shorts. "I could probably agree to stay out of your hair and let you be an artiste today if..."

Butcher looks up at him. "If what?"

Bill just smirks down at him and rolls his hips a little.

Butcher chuckles and he feels the hot line of Bill's cock against his stomach. "Are you trying to proposition me?" Butcher asks nibbling on Bill's neck. Bill rolls his hips again grinning.

"Depends. Is it working?" Bill doesn't actually have any question about that. If Butcher were really in any kind of hurry to get out of there, Bill would be flat on his ass on the floor by now.

"Could be." Butcher licks at the tiny red marks and he draws Bill tighter into his lap. He lets Bill grind against him for another minute as they kiss. "Mmm, or I could bring you to the studio and draw you. I was thinking of a series. Call it "Bill In Climax". What do you say?"

"I like it better when you're involved," Bill says. "But I guess if you want to .... watch, that would be ok too." He's trying really hard to sound casual about it, but the idea of Butcher drawing him excites him. It was something Bill joked about on their first date as soon as Butcher mentioned being an artist. Butcher brushed him off that time and the next three times Bill mentioned it.

Butcher grins and he thumbs over Bill's nipple. "Get dressed. I want you laid out so I can draw you." He murmurs and there's that bossy tone that makes Bill twitch.

"Not going to give me one for the road?"

Butcher shakes his head. "It's gonna be a long day. You're going to need all your energy."

It's an exercise in restraint for both of them, going into Bill's bedroom and putting clothes on. They're both wound tight and twitchy for the drive to the loft that Butcher rents for his studio.

Butcher sets up the little stage. It's a padded platform a little bit off the ground. He sits at a chair with his sketchpad and a pencil.

"What do you want me to do?" Bill flops down waiting for instructions.

Butcher knows that he's only going to be able to get the most basic sketches... if he manages to remember he's supposed to be drawing. "Do what you want," he tells Bill. "Just... do it slowly."

Bill smirks and he decides that he's going to follow that instruction to the letter. He just lies there for a moment, listening to the soft scratch of pencil against paper.

Butcher's hand moves fast, just getting the general lines of William's body, the angles of his arms and legs and if he had his way he could spend hours drawing each piece over and over again, but he's not going to get to do that, not today anyway. Bill shifts a little, his hand moving to settle on his stomach, fingers wide spread and Butcher focuses on the way Bill's pinky is just settled over the button on his jeans.

Bill spends a good minute or five just lying there, breathing in and out. The sunshine is warm and he could almost drowse here, feeling Butcher's eyes on him. The only sounds of the pencil and paper and Butcher turning and tearing pages out.

“You look good like that," Butcher says, breaking the silence after a while. "All stretched out, god, I would have killed for a model like you in life drawing classes. Probably would have flunked out of the class."

Bill laughs a little and it just sounds like sex. Butcher's pencil skips and he tears that page out and starts another. "Glad you're enjoying the view."

"Well, you know," Butcher says, sketching out the shape of Bill's smile and the line of his neck. "I appreciate a good aesthetic."

"That all?" Bill asks shifting on the platform. The tips of his fingers edge under the waistband of his jeans and Butcher's breath catches in his throat.

"I've got a highly trained eye for well composed scenes," Butcher says, only half joking. He presses the lead of his pencil a little to hard, snapping the lead. By the time he's dug a new one out of his bag, the button of Bill's jeans has 'mysteriously' opened. Butcher groans and he sketches the slash of waist and the shadow of his open jeans. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath.

Bill's only about half hard. He knows he could make it go fast, but he likes the way Butcher's concentrating so completely on him, and he asked for it to be slow. He inches his shirt a little further up his stomach, listening for some sort of reaction from Butcher. He gets it in a hissed breath.

Bill smiles and he nudges his zipper down slowly. Butcher's breath catches again and he snaps another pencil tip. Bill's laugh is slow and rich.

"It's not nice to laugh at me," Butcher says, making another attempt to capture the bend of Bill's wrist.

Bill shifts a little, bending a knee so he can lift and inch his pants down over the sharp angle of his hips.

Butcher swears and he was so wrong that he thought he could do this. Bill lowers his pants even lower and Butcher knew that Bill wasn't wearing underwear, but his breathing is now short.  
Bill twists his hips, he wants Butcher to be able to see everything when he wraps his hand around his cock. It only takes a few strokes, his fist tight, before he's hard and just starting to leak. He looks over at Butcher and licks his lips.

Butcher can not stop looking at Bill, watching his hand stroking. The precome making Bill's cock and the curve of his palm shine. "God," he groans.

"You're not drawing anymore," Bill says. His voice is more breathless than he means it to be. "I thought you wanted to draw me like this."

Butcher sets aside his pad and is jerking his shirt over his head. "You're fucking distracting. Thought we covered this already." He says putting a knee on the platform next to Bill's hip.

Bill pushes himself up with the hand that isn't jerking slowly over his cock. "You need to be able to focus better. Never going to get anywhere if you can’t pay attention." He flails a little gracelessly, kicking his pants off.

Butcher smiles and leans down to lick over the tip of Bill's cock. "How's this for attention?" He asks.

Bill drags a shuddering breath in. "Yeah, that's... that's good." Bill releases his grip on his cock, and Butcher's hand replaces his immediately.

Butcher's mouth wraps around the tip and he looks up to watch Bill's face. Bill's eyes close and Butcher swirls his tongue around the tip.

Bill reaches out blindly, tangling his hand in Butcher's hair. Butcher's hand tightens on his hip, nails digging in a little, and the scrape makes him hiss... and the slow drag of Butcher's mouth sliding further down his cock turns it into a groan. It's perfect. The sunshine is warm on his face and Butcher's mouth is warmer, wetter and the suction makes Bill's eyes roll back. There is nothing wrong about this at all.

Butcher wishes there were some way he could do this and draw at the same time, some way to make Bill look like this and capture on paper while he was. But given the choice between the two, he'd rather do than draw. He loves the way Bill fills his mouth, the way he shakes under his hands, like he might actually come apart completely.

Bill knows he's not going to last. The build up from earlier already had him on edge, then the drawing made him even harder. Butcher's mouth knows just how to move to bring him even closer to the edge.

Butcher pulls back a little, draws so slowly away, sucking hard and then finds just that spot with his tongue. Bill grunts the first time Butcher hits it and then again and then, with one long moan, his body goes bow string taut, and Butcher can't do anything but swallow when Bill starts to come.  
He keeps swallowing, not letting Bill slip from his mouth till Bill's flat against the platform and breathing hard. He sits up on his knees, licking his lips and looking at Bill. He turns around and grabs his sketchpad. He fills in the shape, the gentle curve of Bill's cock, spent and shining wet against his belly.

Bill watches bleary eyed and dazed, smiling at the way concentration wrinkles between Butcher's eyes. "Fuck," he pants, drawing a few deep breaths. "That was.."

"Shut up and hold still," Butcher says. "You look even better wrecked than you do taunting me."

Bill has an excuse to just lie there and revel in his afterglow. "Bossy," he murmurs and Butcher grins and nods. This is going to work, he thinks.


End file.
